I don’t know how to fix it.
“Salt water is good for cuts.”
Maybe not seawater though; what with so many critters and algae and germs...
But what was the alternative?
Looking at Conner and Galloway, I forced away my concerns. “Let’s go for a swim. We all need a bath, and it will make us feel better.”
And, depending on how bad Pippa’s wound was, I might have to use the needle and thread a lot sooner than I wanted.
Nausea rolled through me at the thought of stitching up the little girl with no anaesthesia.
“Come on.” Not waiting for replies, I untangled my fingers from Pippa’s and stomped toward Galloway. I hadn’t braced his leg yet because he’d refused to take off his jeans.
Idiot.
What was his problem? He’d pressed himself against me in the woods, he’d come within a whisker of kissing me, and now, he’d gone too shy to let me strip him so I could help.
At least, he’ll have to undress to go swimming.
I held out my hand. “I won’t ask again. A swim will be beneficial.”
Desire glowed in his eyes (I didn’t know if it was for me or the thought of the ocean), but he glared at my hand as if it offended him. “I can’t stand.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No. I can’t.” He glowered at the horizon. “I won’t do it.”
Crouching, I ignored my ribs and dropped my voice so the children didn’t hear. “Throwing up is natural. Your system can only handle so much pain—”
“Forget you saw that.”
“I won’t because it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I moved to his side and passed him the crutch with the slightly wider end. “Come on. Please.”
He looked up. For a second, the crackle of connection and lust sprang between us then dispelled as Galloway growled, “Goddammit, you don’t play fair.”
“I didn’t know I was playing, but if it means I win, then great.”
“Bollocks.”
I laughed despite myself.
Muttering under his breath, he wedged the crutch into the sand and allowed me to duck beneath his arm. Conner dashed forward to help lever him from behind.
It took a lot of pain and effort from all of us, but we finally got Galloway to his feet.
He squeezed his eyes. “This better get easier.”
I’d taken my shoes off while we ate and the sugar-soft sand oozed between my toes. “It will. Once it’s set and has support, the pain will fade.”
I’m lying again. I have no idea if that’s what will happen.
“She’s right.” Conner held up his wrist. “This freaking killed but ever since she tied the stick to it, it feels better.”
Apparently, my lies are based on truth.
Pippa followed us like a tiny shadow as Galloway limped and hopped from the shady campsite.
A ragged groan fell from his lips.
He swayed and I quickly pressed against him, allowing him to wrap his arm tighter around my shoulders.
My heart played a harpsichord as he trembled.
Holding him reminded me of how much I wasted my life being alone. How much I’d valued silence over nightclubs and preferred conversations with a pen and paper rather than flirting with a stranger.
I’d been alone most of my life, and now, I was alone on an island. And for some reason, the only male of dateable age found me desirable.
The longer we spent in each other’s company, the more I saw beneath his mask. He came across as brash with hard edges, but I sensed there was a lot more to Galloway Oak than he wanted to reveal.
Pippa darted in front of us. She spun around with her bottom lip stuck out. “Can I jump in?”
I stopped as the first lap of seawater met my toes. “Think you can take some of your clothes off, so they don’t get wet?”
Or is it best to swim in our clothes so they’re semi clean?
We all had a few pieces to change into. I’d found my handbag with my nightgown, bikini, and shorts. And Conner had sourced Galloway’s messenger bag and his father’s rucksack. We had enough clothing to tide us over.
The clothes we’d folded neatly and weighed down with a rock after rummaging through supplies. What I’d really been searching for were things of use: lighters or matches, cell-phones or communication devices (even a flare would’ve been nice). But Galloway’s phone was dead with no charger, and Conner said his mum and dad begrudgingly left their tablets behind so there would be no work distractions.
I have to find my jacket.
I had a phone and a charger.
That was our best hope of rescue.
Conner jogged to his sister, peeling off his t-shirt and hopping on one leg to shed his shorts. His actions were awkward with his wrist splint, but he stood proudly in silky Star Wars boxers. The satiny material clung to his skinny boy hips.
He nudged Pippa, who’d gone shy. “Come on, Pip. Swimming in clothes is no fun.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re so scrawny.”
“And you’re just a chicken.” Dashing into the lapping waves, he called, “Last one in has to give the other their allowance.”
Allowance.
My heart rattled like a moneybox with no change. Those normal things had now vanished. There would be no allowance here. Unless payment in the form of shells were welcome currency.
Pippa squealed, hurriedly ripping off her t-shirt before slipping out of her trousers and barrelling toward the water in just her knickers.
I slapped a hand over my mouth at the nasty gash in her shoulder.
“Oh, my God.”
Galloway flinched. “Ouch. That kid has balls not to scream every time she moves.”
I couldn’t stop looking. Her pearl-white skin was torn apart and angry. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
His answer took a long moment. “I hope so.”
My throat clogged with tears.
Galloway’s arm tightened around my shoulders. “Hey...it will be okay. She’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
I nodded, unable to reply. Shrugging, I wordlessly requested he let me go. He obeyed, loosening his hold and placing more of his balance on the crutch.
I moved down the beach, never looking away from the children diving beneath the crystal water and acting like nothing was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
Including my feelings toward a man I barely knew.
Galloway had the unnerving ability to slip into my thoughts and trickle into my heart. I could cope with him being a bastard but not his sincerity and concern. That would ruin me because I didn’t have any more space to care so much when our future was unknown.
“I’m going to join them.” Shoving away my nerves, I yanked my black diamante top over my head (which bloody hurt my ribs) and anxiously stepped out of my jeans.
I didn’t dare look at Galloway.
Not one glance.
But I knew he looked at me because my skin prickled with heat.
I kept my head high as I waded into the ocean in my black knickers and bra. So what if he saw me in my underwear? I had no doubt he’d see me in all forms of undress over the next few days while we waited for rescue.
The blissful sensation of fresh air after wearing hot denim made me groan with relief. The moment the cleansing water licked up my hipbones, I dropped to my knees on the sandy bottom and disappeared beneath the surface.
I hovered until my mind felt mildly saner than a few moments ago before pushing upward.
My gaze landed on Galloway. Every nerve, stress, desire, and lust exploded into intensity.
He’d managed to strip off his t-shirt, revealing a powerful chest of sculpted pectorals and obliques. The ripples of his stomach shifted with every breath, his skin glittering with sweat.
My mouth fell open as I unashamedly drank him in. I’d found him attractive at the airport. I’d appreciated his height, roguish good looks, and bookish sex appeal with his glasses. But now...holy hell, I wanted him.
&nb
sp; I wanted to be reckless and forget our lives were on the line.
I wanted to pretend we’d made it to Kadavu.
I wanted to believe he was an island fling and nothing could harm us.
My fingers tingled to touch him, my tongue watered to taste him.
I stopped breathing as he reached for his fly. My heart became a skipping stone as he unbuttoned and unzipped, loosening the denim to slide halfway down his hips. Black boxer-briefs and the delicious swell of a well-endowed male.
My mouth mimicked dry sand.
Galloway looked up.
I froze.
Instead of smirking at the fact I’d been caught staring, he grimaced and glanced away. The pain he endured shone on his face while his breathing laboured.
From the safety of the water, I knew what would happen. I also knew I wouldn’t refuse even though it would cost me more than I had.
He couldn’t get his jeans farther down his legs without help.
I shivered. Don’t ask me. Don’t ask me to help.
“Estelle?” His jaw clenched with frustration. He couldn’t make eye contact, far too proud to admit he couldn’t do it himself.
The alpha vulnerability tore apart my heart.
Dammit.
Balling my hands, I waded out of the water and stood dripping wet before him. “Should I pull or do you want to lean on me while you do it?”
His face contorted with rage. “I don’t want your help at all.”
Anger filled my blood. “Then why—”
“Because I’m a fucking invalid who can’t do anything on his own.” Breathing hard, he glanced at the horizon, waves, beach—anywhere but at me. “Just yank them down, all right? Don’t make me bloody beg.”
I battled with the desire to slap his attitude away and hug him for being in such a demoralizing position. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” My voice was soft as I dropped to my knees in front of him.
I looked up.
Crap, I shouldn’t have done that.
From this position, I had the perfect view of tight boxer-briefs, perfect bulge, sleek chest, and furious man towering over me.
We both turned rigid.
Instincts beyond my control took over. The urge to soothe him, kiss him, yank down, not just his jeans but his boxer-briefs too, hijacked my nervous system.
Oh, God.
Clearing his throat, Galloway tore his eyes from mine. His fists clenched by his sides.
With slightly shaking hands, I reached for his hips and slid my fingers into the belt loops. Slowly tugging the dense material down his thighs (doing my best to avoid his bleeding wound), Galloway sucked in a harsh breath.
Conner and Pippa splashed behind us but all I could focus on was Galloway and how close I was to a very intimate part of him.
He swallowed a growl as I slid the denim over his knees.
I paused. “You’re going to have to bend your leg for me to slip your foot free.”
His blue eyes bore holes into mine. “Fine.” Holding his breath, he did his best to balance on his good leg. However, he stumbled and his hand landed on the only place he could reach.
My head.
The instant his large fingers clutched my skull, tugging on hair and reminding me what normally happened when a woman was on her knees before a man, my core clenched.
Breathe.
Don’t pay attention.
The sexual flush irritated and scared me; I jerked his jeans harder than intended.
“Christ!” He stumbled again, his fingers digging harder into my head as I freed one leg.
We both paused. There was no way he could put weight on his broken ankle.
He came to the same conclusion. “I should’ve sat down for this.”
I laughed, cursing my winged heart. “Well, you can’t wear these for the foreseeable future anyway. Just go in the water with them. I’ll tug them off once the sea takes your weight.”
He scowled. “Why can’t I wear them?”
“Because once you’re clean, I’m going to make you a splint and jeans won’t fit over it.”
“Fine.” Hugging his crutch like a lifeline, he hopped toward the tide, not asking for my help.
I let him go.
I pretended it was for his benefit, so he could he take back some of his independence even as his jeans trailed after him.
But I really did it for me.
I did it for my heart.
I did it for my sanity.
Chapter Sixteen
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G A L L O W A Y
......
SCREW THIS DAMN island.
Everything so far had been awful.
Not her, though.
No, not her.
She was the only thing making it bearable.
I wallowed in warm water, wishing I could look away but couldn’t.
Estelle had her back to me as she tended to Pippa’s cut. Considering I knew nothing about her, I’d already learned so much. I’d learned she didn’t have much experience dealing with children. She treated them like adults, talking soothingly but smartly, not dumbing anything down or lying when Conner asked her a brutal question about where we would sleep tonight.
For the record, the stars would be our roof. That should’ve been my job. I was a builder, for christ’s sake. But how could I create shelter when I could barely stay conscious while standing?
I hated my weakness. But I had no intention of staying that way. Tomorrow, I would be better, and I would build us a damn fort, even if my ankle continued to be a prick.
I was done being the cripple.
On top of building a fort, I’d construct a raft. I’d somehow figure out a way to build a boat to get us off this godforsaken place.
If they can’t find us...we’ll sail to find them.
Estelle also seemed to have an endless well of quiet strength and common sense. We had no medicine for Pippa’s shoulder. It would almost guarantee an infection if we didn’t stay on top of its cleanliness. But she didn’t fret outwardly, merely focused on the now.
It turned my stomach to see the sea turn pink with blood as Estelle sluiced Pippa’s wound, but I had to admit, the injury looked a lot better than it had.
The fear of a shark coming to investigate niggled me. Did they have sharks in Fiji?
Once she’d tended and done all she could, Estelle pushed Pippa to neck height in the water, telling her to stay under for ten minutes to let the salt heal. That was the only white lie she told: that the sea would take away her pain and sew her up perfectly.
But who was I to say differently? I felt better with the water cradling my break. If Estelle believed the ocean could cure everything, I wanted to believe in it, too.
Conner swam off, chasing silver fish beneath the surface.
We need to catch a few.
I was starving and thirsty. The snack before (if a few mouthfuls could be called a snack) hadn’t achieved anything.
My attention turned to the three necessities of survival.
Shelter.
Food and Water.
Health.
We had no shelter, but I’d fix that (watch me. Break or no break).
We had limited food, and soon, we’d have none.
Our health was compromised.
We would need a miracle to survive.
But how could we ask for another miracle when we’d just lived through one? We were here while three others were rotting beneath the Fijian sun. That was a miracle...right?
Tearing my eyes from Estelle (doing my best not to get hard remembering her in her underwear), I looked up the beach at the postcard-perfect view. My sodden jeans dried in the sun and our footsteps led to our sparse camp where salvaged items rested in the shade.
“What are you thinking?” Conner swam up, his arms powering through the water.
My thoughts remained morbid. How much longer would he have the strength and energy to swim and want to talk? Once he burned t
hrough his body’s reserves, would he still smile, still joke?
When I didn’t reply, Conner splashed me. “Know what I’m thinking?” He pointed at the horizon.
The empty, beautiful, cursed horizon.
No islands.
No boats.
No seaplanes.
No traffic or pollution of any kind.
“I think they’ll find us. Search and rescue have already left and will be here soon.”
Wishing so much to believe in the fairytale, I played along. “Yeah, I bet they’re just around the corner, bringing burgers and Cokes, ready to ferry us to our hotel.”
Conner’s eyes suddenly glassed over. “Even if the hotel came for us, Pip and I couldn’t check in without Mum and Dad.” His gaze switched to the island and the resting place of his parents. “Is it strange that I don’t believe they’re dead? That it doesn’t feel real.”
The sea was shallow and we both bobbed on the bottom with our arms keeping us afloat. “I get that. My mum died a few years ago.”
“Did you get over it?”
I deliberated if I should tell him what society expected. The generic ‘yes, time heals all wounds and the grief will get easier.’ But Estelle didn’t bullshit them, so I wouldn’t, either. “No, I didn’t. When it first happened, I got angry. Really angry. I did...something. I hurt my dad.” I smiled crookedly. “Don’t let that happen. I can’t tell you how to deal with the fact they’re never coming back, but I can tell you what not to do.”
“What shouldn’t I do?”
“Don’t confuse sadness for rage. And don’t take it out on those who care the most.” I hadn’t told anyone that. I hadn’t even apologised to my father for being such a screw-up.
My soul crumpled. I’d never had the balls to address what I’d done. And now, I might never have the chance to hug my dad and say I’m sorry. I’d left him when he needed me the most. Not only did he lose a wife, he also lost a son.
Twice.
I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stay in the sea any longer.
I cut through the water and dragged myself onto the sand.
I did my best to shuffle/hop with my crutch, ignoring my pain, and left the others behind.
I didn’t look back.
Chapter Seventeen
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Unseen Messages Page 14